


the north has cold winters

by faerghusbitch (facemeg)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Mercenaries, Porn with Feelings, emotional soup, have some closure? have some sex? why not both?, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:33:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24876982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facemeg/pseuds/faerghusbitch
Summary: (kiss me, touch me)two mercenaries with emotional baggage, what happens next will shock you!
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Ingrid Brandl Galatea
Kudos: 52





	the north has cold winters

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I'm sorry!!! I might refine this later, I haven't written anything in maybe 4 years but I needed to get my feelings out abt these two. Thanks for your time please Scream at me in the comments ok!!

She felt as though her legs were about to give in. It was awful.

Snow was blasting against the window and he still hadn't returned. It was always risky to take separate jobs, never knowing for sure if the other would return. They worked well together, nowadays. They fought to earn and spent their coin on food and shelter. The stone cottage she lingered in was such a testament.

They had promises of gold and land waiting for them back in Enbarr. They'd more than earned a reward for their part in the war. But it wasn't right for them, and despite everything, they were drawn to the old lands of Faerghus to winter. There'd be plenty of work, with villagers pooling money to have their emerging forest beasts slain. Neither of them had said it outwardly, but there was still something within that pulled them to help what was once their homeland. 

Ingrid huffed and marched to her bedroll, sitting down cross-legged and pulled her cloak around her. The fire on the hearth was flickering strong, but she couldn't linger by the winds seeping in through the windows any longer. He would be back any time.

.

Oh, the still air screamed in her ears. There was nothing left to do with herself. She'd boarded her horse safe and warm in the stable with enough hay for a good two days. There was chopped firewood for about as long. Her blades were sharpened, wiped clean of today's blood. She'd brushed out her hair, which had grown quite a bit recently, and tied it back to wash quickly in lukewarm water. The rest of the watery venison stew she'd made was waiting for Felix. He would eat it with no complaint, he wasn't picky. In fact-! No... she'd already washed up after her own meal. Just before she'd counted out today's coin and stored it deep in her pack for safekeeping.

She felt as though her eyes might drop out from her head with the way it seemed to be spinning. Without anything to busy her hands and mind, dangerous thoughts started to creep in. The dark, rainy night at Tailtean. His Highness clutching his lance with that wild look in his eye. No, she couldn't spiral like that again. She pulled the cloak tighter and shuffled closer to the fire.

She grabbed an iron poker and prodded at the burning logs, thinking carefully about the fire and keeping it contained, much as she had no reason to touch it. But the way it burned, casting a glare of red around her, was getting on her nerves. She couldn't help but think of stubborn Sylvain. She'd tried hard to find closure, failed, and tried even harder to never think of him again. And back then, she'd spent far too much effort on cleaning up after somebody who didn't deserve it. When the world had cracked three ways some six years ago, she reached out to him.

She'd changed. She cut off her ideals of honour and chivalry before she fell too deep to see the real world. Felix had allied himself to Edelgard before she'd had chance to think it through. But Sylvain wouldn't follow. She understood, at first, why he was standing by Faerghus. But, no... why fight for ideals that had tortured him since birth? If he was discontented enough to live the lazy, womanizing life he did, why not fight to change it?

She was getting caught up again. She'd tried and tried to rationalize. Even after that night at Tailtean. He shamelessly flirted with her even then, before she- She did what she had to do, and didn't take any pleasure in it.

Only once, on a night several moons ago, did Felix seem to battle the same. Just once in the dead of night, when her mind was racing too much to rest, did he whisper the Tempest King's name in his sleep. But Felix wasn't one for talking much about things he deemed unimportant. They'd discuss where to ride next, when to wake, how to strike.

Now she felt like she was on the brink of going crazy with her limbs motionless, aching for something or anything, while shadows were growing in her mind.

Three heavy knocks on the door, in the same pattern as always. Thank the Goddess.

The door swung open, and he stepped in quickly before a blast of the blizzard could follow him. She didn't turn to look right away, just allowing a sense of warmth and familiarity flow over her. She heard his breathing and weighted footsteps, dropping down his bags and kicking off his wet boots. The clash of metal as his sword hit the floorboards. He wasn't normally one to drop his blade.

She turned quickly, then.

"Felix?"

His face was painted with a damp mix of sweat, blood and snow, looking quite haggard with the light from his lantern beneath him. 

"Pack of giant wolves, I'm fine," he said hoarsely, "maybe eight of them."

"You were gone all day."

"I had to find an apothecary" he groaned as he pulled off his winter armor, "think I was poisoned."

"Huh?" she got to her feet and looked him over.

"Just another day," he grabbed his bedroll from the corner, movements seeming a bit stiff, and laid it out by the fire.

"Are you in pain?"

"Not any more," he lied.

She eyed him suspiciously, but didn't want to press him. They'd already spoken more in one moment than for the last few days.

He slumped down by the fire.

"Blizzard," he said.

"Yeah, I know. I've been back for hours but I- Oh, let me put the stew back on," she eyes brightened, realizing at last there were things to be done.

She grabbed the iron pot, long cooled down now, and hung it back over the fire to heat up. The she looked around. His armor and boots were soaked and dirty, and might take a while to clean off - or so she hoped.

"Let me help you, I'm bored out of my mind."

He glanced up at her after wiping over his face with gloved hands. "I can take care of myself."

"No, honestly Felix- I need something to do."

"I'll do it myself in a moment, I just need- Ah..." he winced.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, just freezing. Right to my bones."

She felt her face slowly fall blank. Would he really not accept her help? Granted, he wouldn't normally, unless he was busy with something else.

His eyes narrowed as he focused in on her. "You were crying?"

"Huh, no?"

Her fingers flew up to her eyes. Her cheeks had started to dry, but there were sure trails leaking down her face. How odd.

"Hm," he grunted, in his typical fashion, and turned back to the fire.

"I didn't notice," she went to explain.

He was unresponsive, facing far away from her.

She let a moment pass before speaking again. "A bit talkative today, aren't we?"

Silence, and then- "It was tough today."

 _Working alone_ , she wondered?

"Snowstorms are a nuisance," she said, testing the waters.

He sighed with a typical Felix annoyance, "Yeah."

.

.

She didn't realize how long her mind had entirely blanked until he spoke again.

"I didn't think I'd make it back today."

The tension snapped suddenly, while they both gazed into the fire.

"I almost thought you wouldn't come back, for a while there," she said, slowly, "It was... horrible."

"You could keep working, without me," he said with the slightest edge of bitterness.

Her mind, which had just started to clutter again, emptied like a drain - all but for one huge and imposing thought.

Felix didn't like to be touched without warning, she knew this well. But still her hand gently went to his shoulder, resting lightly.

"Felix, I couldn't," the words trickled out, surprising her as they came, "I couldn't cope if I lost you."

His eyes watched her carefully, amber and piercing.

"I can't lose anyone again," she added.

"I'm not Glenn," he said, quickly and harshly.

"I wasn't thinking of Glenn."

She didn't think of Glenn much any more. Only of Sylvain and Dimitri, and unconsciously of Felix. Her heart was beating fast and rough in her chest, as she realized this.

His eyes softened in some way she'd never seen, something confusing. She had to elaborate.

"I think about those two, Sylvain in his black armor, flirting with me before I- killed him," he eyes were welling, she felt it this time, "and I watched you face Dimitri, and watched Edelgard finish him. I know you think of them too."

Were his eyes glistening?

"They're in the past now, I know," a tremble escaped in her voice, "and I don't regret everything. But after losing them, I can't- I won't lose you as well. Not ever."

He hesitantly reached out, touching her arm, inching closer on his knees, and then wrapping her up and into him.

"I won't die," he said, "I'm too difficult, aren't I?"

She'd never heard his voice shake like that. She wasn't actively crying now, but perhaps he- his throat was close to her ear, and she heard something like a whimper. But still, she couldn't still.

"Just... keep talking for me," she said.

"I'm no good at talking," he said.

"Try for me."

He paused. "I can't remember the last time I hugged anybody," he murmured softly, "there's nobody left alive in the world that I've ever hugged, except you."

"Have we hugged before?"

"When we were young, I think."

She breathed deeply. He smelled vaguely like a pine forest, although damp and a little sweaty. Still, she inhaled peacefully, thinking on it. She'd known him her whole life, and watching him grow from such a carefree and happy child, into- what the world had shaped him into. But now, she saw him again - just a small piece of that young boy within, however hardened he was now.

"Are you hungry? The stew will be hot."

He released her from his grip, and she saw his face again. His eyes were a bit red, but his expression was almost back to normal, besides the slight softness of his eyes. She could get used to him looking at her more like that.

"I don't want to eat just yet," he said, and pulled the pot off the flame beside them. He pulled a stretch of his bedroll to wipe his face and neck again, and looked back at Ingrid.

His eyes were intense now, in a way most characteristic, but also mysterious.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked gruffly.

Her mouth was agape. "What?" She'd only a moment ago realized that Felix was the most important person in her world, and had no time to consider any more about what that meant, and now he was asking-? 

"...May I?" he tried, looking down and seeming almost frustrated with himself.

She stifled a laugh, and knew suddenly that he could, that she could-

reach over, let her eyes flutter closed, and press her lips against his.

It was soft, and wet. She hadn't known what to expect. She'd never kissed anybody before. She felt vulnerable and open and insecure but so warm - and her chest was... full? It was a strange feeling.

His hands slipped up to her arms, holding her gently, as he moved his mouth against her. She was positive someone as emotionally stunted as he had never kissed anybody before either- Ah, it hit suddenly like a ton of bricks.

Why, what... Felix had asked to kiss her. Felix never asked for anything, didn't speak to her unless necessary. There was a newly dawned sun in her heart, rising quicker and quicker by the second - explaining within herself, that she loved Felix deeply. It was a surprise but also... somehow, not a shock. Of course she loved him, and always had. But it was still uncharted territory, which she wanted to explore equally.

She pulled away from him.

"Felix, what..." she stopped to catch her breath, "Why do you want to kiss me?"

He didn't emote, just watched her like she was crazy, like she was crazy to ask. Then his brow knit together as he looked down, eyes shifting about uncomfortably, facing something within himself.

"Do I have- ...ugh, I'm sorry, I know I should-" he spluttered, "Ingrid, I- ...you're all I have left to. I'm realizing that now. But my head feels... I don't know. I'm freezing."

Yes, his skin, his clothes - he was very cold to the touch. How fitting for somebody thought to be so cold-hearted. But he'd reached out for her, anyway.

She leaned in and kissed him again, without thinking too much. She'd been holed up by the fire for hours and was nice and toasty, she could keep him warm.

He sank into that warmth, a near-inaudible hum leaving his throat as they kissed, lips dragging and moving, and then stopping.

She had to say it, risque as it sounded. "You need to get your clothes off."

He raised an eyebrow. Goddess, if that had been Sylvain... No, no- thoughts like that had to go.

He started to unbutton and peel off his layers, dragging them away to reveal his light, scarred skin. They'd been travelling together in close quarters for so long, but had always avoiding indecency amongst each other. Ingrid didn't know quite where her eyes should go, when faced with his bare torso.

"You're warm," he said, thoughtlessly.

She pulled him into the wrapped warmth of her cloak. She was wearing a woolen tunic over the clothes she intended to sleep in.

"If you want, get into your smallclothes and get under my bedroll with me tonight, it'll be even warmer, I will look away if you want to get your wet pants off."

"I don't care if you see," he huffed, his nose pressed against her head inside the confines of the cloak. 

"You're normally so modest," she chuckled.

"Doesn't matter if I'm going to lie with you," he stopped, "literally, I mean."

A feeble smile just grew naturally on her lips, "I know, I know," she said, "I just want to keep you warm."

He sighed against her, "Don't start teasing me now," Felix grumbled.

"I'm not trying to tease you," she said, "If you give yourself to me, I'll give myself to you in return."

She didn't know quite what she was saying, feeling in inebriated in the haze of this new side of him.

He exhaled like he'd held in a long breath.

"You know I don't know how to express it, but- you've had me for a long time now," he said with a defeated tone.

"I love you," she responded quickly, to fill the silence she knew he would hate, "as I always have. More so now, though, of course. I'm starting to understand it."

Her cheeks felt violently warm, and he must have felt it.

"Kiss me again?" he asked.

She turned her face to him, kissing him slowly, deeply. In a way she wasn't quite sure how to do - tongues intertwining clumsily. His hand was on her waist, grasping gently as they fell into something, rising and falling with a building desperation. They pulled apart to breathe.

"You're warm," he said again.

She was debating with herself internally, then. "Take your pants off, they're wet," she said before she could worry about regretting it.

"Wait, before that, I-" he shuffled out of the cloak, "I... love you, too. I need you to know that before anything else."

Her beaming smile was reward enough for getting the words out.

"Okay, I'm glad we're in agreement," she laughed, "now we really need to get you warm."

He shrugged off the rest of his soggy clothes, except for his mostly-dry linen smallclothes. He was standing, in all his toned, muscular glory. Her eyes trailed up to his face, which read a little with uncertainty, something she rarely saw on him. Much as she rarely saw his cheeks tinged pink.

"Let me in," he said, pulling the blanket from his bedroll and crouching down to hers, where she tucked her legs into the warmth. He joined her, pressing his body close to fit in, and spreading his blanket as an extra layer for them both.

She sighed into his neck, tickling him slightly. "Warmer now?"

"Warmer," he said.

The fire was dying down, she hadn't added any more logs for a while. The wind was still howling faintly outside, snow still plastering against the small glass windows. They were safe to rest now. Felix was already feeling much warmer to the touch. Finally, she was filled with contentment, and could relax. Which was all to easy with the steady sound of his breathing close to her ear.

.

.

.

The night had drawn on, and the fire had died down. The air was still cold, but her body burned uncomfortably. She slipped away from Felix's arm and climbed out of the bedroll, and looked to the waterjug on the table in the corner of the cottage. Empty? She was sure she'd filled it, gotten in done earlier like everything else, while waiting for him to return. But she was so thirsty...

She picked up her discarded heavy cloak and pulled it around her shoulders. The snowstorm seemed quite mild outside - she would flit out quickly to grab some fresh water from the well. Felix was still sleeping, and the well wasn't so far enough to worry about leaving him vulnerable. But he was a light-sleeper anyways. She slipped out before she'd a chance to disturb him.

Her boots, which had been dried by the fire earlier, were holding up well enough in the deep snow as she trudged down the lane. Much as she had feared, the well had frozen over. Fortunate that she'd studied reason at the academy, though she'd doubted that she'd take any magic exams. She rubbed her hands together and sparked a weak fire in her hands. Again, and again. The ice was thicker than it looked, melting away irritatingly slowly. She still felt warm enough in her thick woolen tunic, but would start to feel the harsh winter weather if she stayed out too long.

.

.

She'd had it, absolutely had enough, and sent a Bolganone down the well. It crashed into the ice, leaving just enough space for her to lower a bucket into the water. She wanted to get back inside to safety, softness and to Felix.

With a half-full bucket in hand, she worked her way back to the cottage, moving quickly to get to that waterjug.

When she slipped into the open door, Felix was standing before her by the quiet hearth, with a blanket around his shoulders.

"Oh, did I wake you? I'm sorry," she said groggily.

"I wondered where you were, that's all," he said, and slipped back to the ground. 

"Just had to fill this," she said as she emptied fresh water into the jug, and poured some for herself.

"You didn't mean to sleep in that tunic," he said, thinking aloud.

She shook her head after finishing gulping down her water. "I had gotten so hot that I woke up."

He hummed idly, and stretched his arms out behind him.

"Let's go back to sleep," she sat down atop the bedroll and pulled her tunic overhead, leaving just her smallclothes behind - which was nothing he hadn't seen before.

And yet, he turned his gaze from her. And then she noted that he, too, was still dressed indecently.

"Hah, do you feel naked suddenly?" she teased.

"Ugh, yes," he said, a bit snappily. His cheeks had turned pink again.

"Kiss me," she said with a smile.

He was about to comply, and then stopped abruptly, "No, if I do, it's... hard to stop."

 _Oh._ Well, they were in quite an improper situation. But she found- that she didn't mind it. The tone of the air between them was something strange, but it was inviting. Something deep in her stomach pushed her forward.

"You don't have to stop," she said, knowing she must be blushing too, "I'll give myself to you, I said. Make love to me."

Her delicate words did something to his face that she couldn't quite describe - it was almost as though he was discovering brand new human emotions all by himself.

He moved a little closer, "Is that what you want? I'm..."

"Yes. It's okay."

"I've never done- anything like that before," he was a little closer.

"I know. Me neither," she admitted, sweeping her hair back with one hand.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Gods, Felix... you'd hurt me more if you turned me down now. Kiss me."

So he reached out to her, touching her lips, tentatively moving his hands to the bottom of her spine. In just these clothes, he could feel the shape of her. Her waist was slim and her hips wide - something about women's bodies he'd probably only ever vaguely noticed from a distance. 

She melted into him, with arms tightly around his back, rising up to his neck, his hair. They kissed passionately and recklessly, until she planted one last soft kiss and eased back for a moment. He looked into her eyes as she pulled her shirt over her head, leaving her breasts free and exposed.

He flushed again.

"You can touch me."

Her hands took hold of his, and guided them to her chest. Then she rested her hands on his cheeks and kissed him again, as his awkward hands began to softly grasp at her chest. Yes, clearly he'd never done this before. But neither had she. All she knew came from a few racy scenes in the books she'd read.

She felt her breasts become sensitive under his kneading touch, and whimpered against his mouth. He stopped at once.

"Did it hurt?"

"No, no," she promised, "Not at all. Don't stop." 

He rubbed gentle circles into her skin, caressing lovingly while she lead the kiss. The intimate space between her legs tingled as he did so, especially when she wondered about his own intimate parts.

She looked down to see a shape pressing against his smallclothes. He made a sound of annoyance.

Ingrid stuttered a string of something non-verbal. She wasn't quite sure how to navigate, so she kissed him again.

Then she felt his hand slip down to her underwear. It stopped at her waist, waiting for permission. She nodded into the crook of his neck, and he pulled the clothing away from her. She helped him to slip it over her legs, and he caught a glimpse of her in the lowlight of the embers of the dead fire. She clamped her legs together suddenly. 

She realized only then how heavy the sound of their breathing was, already panting against each other. She was totally bare before him and couldn't help but feel insecure, even in the darkness. But, then... she never thought she'd have much choice in who she gave herself to like this, and she was glad it was him.

She let her legs gently open, feeling air around her most sensitive place, suddenly feeling the wetness dripping from there. She lay down onto her back, and guided his hand to her.

His fingers lightly dipped shallowly into folds of skin, feeling how wet she'd grown. The pit of her stomach twisted and turned in anticipation of his touches, occasionally hitting her most sensitive little nub. It took all her strength to hold her legs open.

When she'd had a bit of time to get used to how he touched her, he delicately slipped one finger within her. It felt surprisingly underwhelming, but relieving that there was no wince of pain as he entered her.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "It's okay, it's okay- I need..."

The burning between her legs was strong and she knew she wanted more than just his fingers. She was far too nervous to say so aloud but she needed him within her. She sat forward from her back and poked at the waistband of his undershorts.

"Okay," he said.

His member was really fighting at the fabric now, she noticed. He pulled them off from beneath him and his manhood sprung free, standing rigidly between his legs. Ingrid's face felt hot.

Perhaps she stared too long. "It's... not that b- I'm average," he mumbled.

What? She wasn't worried about that. She was rather generally concerned about fitting it within her at all - not whether it was too big or too small.

Regardless, she thought perhaps, she should... in return-

She just went ahead, assuring herself, as she reached out to him. Just touching his erection slowly, with her fingertips. Just to calm to pure intimidation of it. His skin was hot, pulsing and hard to the touch.

"Is it going to hurt you?" he asked softly.

"Not if you're careful," she whispered, "if we move slowly."

"Kiss me?" he asked, and she obliged.

His arms snaked around her again as she captured his lips. His dick now pressed against her knee, sending flutters through her abdomen. She couldn't seem to curve her awareness of it, but still she kissed him with everything she was. She was nervous but determined as he laid her back onto the blankets. He touched her chest and ran his hands smoothly down to her hips, and sat himself between her legs.

Her entrance ached viciously for him, truly seeping with moisture now. Her heart was about to burst, so full of love and lust and affection, but her body felt so empty of him. He guided his dick to the base of her folds, tickling along the dampness of her.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Mhmm."

She closed her eyes and waited as the head entered, stretching, and the rest of his length slowly followed. Her mouth had fallen open, while she breathed in and out with conviction. Second by second, the uncomfortable tightness of it began to fade. Felix's face was screwed up oddly when she glanced for a moment, and she wondered if this felt good for him already.

She touched his arm and squeezed, urging him on.

He started to draw out of her, and then back in. Out, again, and then in. Slowly, it became easier and more fluid in motion. And it began to feed a tiny flame somewhere within her. When he pushed in again, he sparked a sensation - she gasped.

"Ingrid?" he halted.

"No, no don't stop," she said.

He seemed all to happy to go on, working back into a steady rhythm. She could no longer stifle the impact of it all, moaning quietly as he reached that spot with her.

"Is this okay?" she asked as his thrusts inched a little faster, "is this- good?"

"Agh, _shit,_ " he groaned, "Yes."

He couldn't hold back either, from then. He moaned with her, panting, gritting his teeth and pounding against her. The lewd sounds of his movement started to echo around the room.

"Oh!" she gasped as she seemed to climb even higher in euphoria, the tiny flame now beginning to roar.

She was noisy now, but she bothered little about it. The cottage was at the edge of the village and the snowstorm continued outside.

Suddenly, he was faster. Filling her up in just the way she craved.

"Don't stop," she pleaded, taking his consistent thrusts with open-mouthed groans.

She was climbing, climbing higher. It was rising within her, this roaring flame. She could barely breathe to keep up as the wave rose, and she began to- drown in pleasure, suddenly hitting her climax and writhing with desperate yelps beneath him.

She'd barely noticed, but he too was caught up in riding his own wave. And he could hold it off no longer. He grunted strangely, thrusts just slightly losing rhythm. He pushed into her and let out a long groan as he spilled into her, gasping for air as pleasure began to dissipate.

They were sweaty and starstruck on their blankets as he pulled out of her and flopped down by her side. Through breaths, he left a long kiss on her cheek.

"Felix..." she murmured breathlessly.

His arm wrapped over her bare chest, "I hear- ...it's different if you're... you're experienced."

She smiled dizzily, eyelids fluttering with exhaustion, "It was... perfect, just as it was. I..."

She didn't know what to say, so she sat up to lean over and kiss him. She felt his seed trickle out of her uncomfortably, but pressed a tender kiss to his lips regardless.

Felix squeezed her tightly in his arms, and then pulled one of their blankets over their naked bodies.

"Ungh... we can sleep now," he yawned, "we have tomorrow and... everything after that, okay?"

She hummed in response and fell asleep against his chest.


End file.
